Dead Water

Chapter Twenty-Two

Sandy found Evie in her office in a smart new building on the water close to the museum in Lerwick. By the time he arrived there it was mid-afternoon. The bairns were on their way home from school in the streets outside and in the open-plan office the staff were drinking tea. Evie was sitting at her desk peering at a computer screen, a mug by her side. It took her a moment to place him and then she frowned. ‘Is this about Markham again? I spoke to that woman from the Western Isles at lunchtime.’

He didn’t answer. It occurred to him that he’d had to bring news of both violent deaths in this investigation, and he had the childish thought that someone else should have taken a turn.

‘Is there somewhere quiet we can talk?’

Something about his voice must have alerted her. She stood up quickly and led him to a small interview room, flicked the sign on the door to Engaged. ‘What is it, Sandy? An accident? Something at Sullom?’

‘It’s John.’ Again he thought this was kinder done quickly. ‘He’s dead. I’m so sorry.’

‘But not an accident?’ Her voice flinty-sharp, and not what he’d been expecting. It had been easier to cope with Maria’s tears.

‘No,’ he said. ‘He was murdered.’

‘Like Jerry Markham.’ Not a question.

They sat for a moment in silence. She was rigid, her hands flat on the desk in front of her. Sandy didn’t know what to say or do. I’m crap at this job. Jimmy would have persuaded her to talk. ‘Morag’s been in touch with your parents,’ he said at last. ‘They’re on their way. They’ll come here for you. I’ll wait with you until they get here.’

‘No!’ The response immediate and bitter. ‘I want to be on my own, Sandy. I want you to go.’

He saw that it was taking all her effort to hold herself together, that she couldn’t bear to cry in front of him. John Henderson had been the only man with whom she’d shared her emotions. He thought she’d be silent and buttoned up for the rest of her life.

When he reached Hvidahus, Willow asked him about Evie and then sent him with Perez to the White House. ‘You’ve met the couple, Sandy. They might be more comfortable talking to you.’ But she directed her instructions to Perez. ‘Find out what they made of Henderson. If he supported the tidal-energy scheme, they might have considered him an enemy. It would be useful to get an unbiased view. And they might have seen someone at his house this morning.’

Sandy and Perez walked down the track to the White House. Sandy would have liked to talk to Perez about Evie, about how she’d refused to cry, but then he thought that might be the most tactless thing in the world. He knocked at the door and, when there was no reply, pushed it open and walked inside. Perez followed. They stood in the wide hall that Sandy remembered, with its smell of furniture polish, a jug of daffodils on a polished chest. Beyond, in the kitchen, there were raised voices. Mark and Sue Walsh were arguing.

‘Why can’t you let it go?’ the woman said. ‘We have to live here. I want to fit in and make friends.’

‘It’s a matter of principle.’ Walsh’s voice was stubborn. ‘You’ve read Francis Watt’s column. There are Shetlanders who feel just as we do.’

Sandy felt awkward standing there, listening. ‘Hello!’ he shouted. ‘Can we come through?’ As soon as he’d spoken he realized it had been a mistake. He should have waited patiently to hear the row through to the end. That was what Perez would have done. He glanced apologetically over his shoulder and Perez shrugged an acknowledgement.

The couple hurried through then, all smiles and apologies for not having heard the door. ‘Come in, Sergeant. How can we help you?’ And the kettle was put on for tea.

‘This is my boss, Jimmy Perez,’ Sandy said. ‘He’d like to speak to you.’ And he felt a tremendous relief, because now he could hand the matter over to Jimmy. Perez was in charge again and things had returned to their proper order.

‘Welcome to Shetland,’ Perez said. ‘I hope you’re settling in here.’ Sandy would never have thought of starting a conversation in that way. ‘We have some very sad news about your neighbour.’ And he went on to explain, very simply, that John Henderson had been killed. ‘We think he was murdered in his own home. I know you’ll want to help in any way you can. Were you here this morning?’

‘How terrible!’ Sue had fine hair, dyed a very pale orange, the colour of apricots. She ran her fingers through it. ‘John was a lovely man.’

‘You were close?’ Perez was drinking his tea, leaning forward across the table.

‘He came to see us the day we moved in and brought us eggs from his hens, and milk and bread. Such a kind gesture, we thought. He was very private, of course, but a man who would always help in a crisis.’

‘You’ll have known Evie then? His fiancée?’

‘Of course.’ But Sandy sensed a slight discomfort.

‘It didn’t cause any awkwardness between you? The fact that you were so opposed to the tidal-energy scheme that Evie was heading up.’

There was a silence. Sue threw a desperate look at her husband, who answered, ‘We were all adults, Inspector. We were allowed a grown-up disagreement. We felt that the whole character of Hvidahus would be changed by the scheme and that the small experimental project could lead to energy generation on an industrial scale. Evie is an evangelist for green power. But we had perfectly amicable personal relationships. We were even invited to their wedding.’

Again Sue’s hands flew to the fine, flyaway hair. ‘Poor Evie!’ she said. ‘That such a thing should happen just a few days before her wedding!’

Sandy turned away so that he wouldn’t have to look at Jimmy’s face. But when Perez spoke, his voice was quite even. He returned to his original question. ‘Were you here this morning?’

‘Only until about eight o’clock,’ Mark said. ‘We went into Lerwick early for shopping and we haven’t long been home. We treated ourselves to lunch in Monty’s.’

‘Did you see anything unusual? Any strange car on the track?’

Sandy thought Sue was about to answer, but Mark got in before her. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Nothing like that.’